Between Myth and Man
by tears over beers
Summary: "Looks like you're not the only one with the indescribable sensation of falling apart. Sucks, huh?" - Tonks through Half-Blood Prince.


It really is amazing how the mind works. How you can end up at a place you never really meant to be, without even making the conscious decision to be there.

Nymphadora Tonks would never recall making the conscious decision to end up in the small park, in the small corner of London that was actually sheltered, just a small distance from number 12 Grimmauld Place, in the small hours of the morning. This was most likely because the park itself held no meaning whatsoever. It was not famous; nothing rare had ever been sighted there. It was just an average part of an average city going through average times.

Green grass. Summer trees blooming with leaves. A few dandelions and daises dotted around the grass. The smell of pollen and grass and that oh-so faint yet very distinct smell of Muggle London. Nothing special.

A passerby may stop for a walk, enjoying the change of scenery. A commuter might go there and eat his lunch occasionally. A couple may sit on the grass every so often enjoying each other's company. Children might come and play the muggle game, football, once in a while. To them, the small expanse of space was nothing. It was exactly like a thousand others dotted around the country. Extraordinarily average.

To Nymphadora Tonks, however, this was not just an average park in an average city going through average times.

For one thing, there was the Wizarding War raging. Now, _that_ was certainly something that not many people around would have heard of.

Amazing, really, that one of the biggest icons, one of the biggest _heroes_ in the whole of the Wizarding World had died just hours ago; that two mere boys had been forced to grow up in a matter of seconds; that a man could betray every single person that trusted him; that someone could be fighting for their life in a hospital bed whilst their family and fiancé wept beside them and yet nobody around even knew. They would never know.

Of course, there would be the stray witch or wizard that had taken up residence around muggle London that would have woken up in these early morning hours to the news that nobody really wanted to believe. Mostly, though, people were simply sleeping in their beds, warm and completely ignorant to the danger that they were in. They would never know.

For another thing, Nymphadora Tonks wasn't exactly ordinary herself.

There was the small fact that she was a witch, of course, but that was hardly surprising when she communicated with witches and wizards alike on a daily basis. Even for a witch, however, Nymphadora Tonks wasn't exactly ordinary.

Perhaps it was her metamorphing abilities; perhaps the pink hair she favoured; the fact that she was a half-blood on the _Black_ family tree probably contributed too; or maybe the fact that she knew Harry Potter, the boy who lived, personally; she was in the Order of the Phoenix, of course, that wasn't exactly ordinary; it might _even_ have been the small fact that she was unbelievably and unconditionally in love with none other than a _werewolf_.

That'd definitely be one to tell the Grandkids.

Providing he wasn't the Grandfather, of course. Which, after the year that she had had, seemed extremely unlikely.

These were all answers to the question of why which Nymphadora Tonks was standing in the small park, in the small corner of London that was actually sheltered, that was just a small distance from number 12 Grimmauld Place, in the small hours of the morning.

The thing that confused Tonks the most wasn't that she _was_ here. It was _why_ she was here. Out of all the places that her mind could force her legs to walk to, this was probably the strangest, mainly because she had been here but two times before.

The first had been almost two years ago, the day that Harry had begun his fifth year at Hogwarts. There had been a large patrol of Order members to escort him to platform 9 ¾, including herself, Remus Lupin and one Sirius Black. Of course, Sirius himself shouldn't really have been there but being an animagus gave him the advantage of a pretty good disguise. After Harry had been dropped off, Tonks had become bored and absent minded and wandered away from the daily safety talk that Mad-Eye Moody decided to give to anyone who didn't want to listen. It was then that she had (quite literally) bumped into Remus, who was attempting to keep Sirius in tow and, somehow, they had ended up in the small park.

Nothing abnormal had happened, really. Well, unless you counted hanging around with a werewolf and a convict disguised as a dog, but for Tonks, that in itself was quite normal.

Tonks had patronized Sirius in his dog form. Sirius had decided it would be fun to trip her wherever she walked. Remus had found both of them quite humorous.

Nothing special had happened, yet it was a moment that stuck clearly in her mind. She had had _fun_, with people she _loved_. Perhaps if she had known how soon she would lose the two of them, she would have tried her hardest to do something similar again. That was life though, she guessed. She just couldn't believe how easy it had been, how easy she had _let_ people walk in and out of her life.

The second time she had found herself in the small park was only one year previously. That, she knew, was when everything had begun to go wrong.

Sirius, Bellatrix, Lucius, Draco, Narcissa, Umbridge, Scrimgeour and oh _fuck_ was she really supposed to be doing something about it all?

Sirius dead, Bellatrix after her, the Malfoy's _definitely _not making anything easier, Umbridge returning and snapping at just about _everyone's_ heals and Scrimgeour, well, he was useless really.

And then there was Remus.

Ah, yes.

Remus.

Remus _fucking_ Lupin.

You might think that, after being thrown down a large flight of concrete stairs by your more-than-a-little psychotic Aunt, after she'd completely messed with your mind, of course, someone might cut you a little slack. Apparently not.

Bellatrix broke her mind (and her arm, for that matter) and Remus broke her heart.

It had been just days after she had been released from the hospital, after they had seen Harry off at the train station.

She kissed him.

She kissed him and, for a minute, everything was right again in the world. They both hadn't just been ripped open by Sirius, a war hadn't just officially begun it was just _him_ and _her_ and he was in her ear, wrapped in her arms, at her neck and _gosh_ would she ever breathe again?

And then it was snatched away. The last little piece of anything she had left. Gone with six little words.

_Too poor. Too old. Too dangerous._

Those words hadn't been alone either. Oh no, they had a whole host of friends.

_You'd be an outcast._

_I can't do this to you._

_You're better off without me._

_You don't need me._

_You might want this now but in ten years, you'll regret it._

_You deserve someone young and whole._

And, of course, the icing on the fucking cake:

_Everyone I love dies._

So she had come to the small park. Every year for the past three now and everything just kept getting worse.

Sirius and Dumbledore dead.

Bill? Who knew. Bill, lovely Bill, the lanky thirteen year old that she had befriended in the corridor of Hogwarts when she was eleven.

Everything was just wrong.

The park itself was silent, dark and cold. Tonks shivered slightly before noting the sound of footfalls on the grass behind her.

"There you are. We were starting to worry. I-"

"Save it."

* * *

><p>Every story has a beginning. The question, however, is <em>where<em> to begin.

The logical place may be with a young woman, cast from her family and a young man, so different from his, bringing a little girl into the world. Then again, it would be a good twenty-four years before the girl would come to be standing in the small park, in the small corner of London that was actually sheltered, that was just a small distance from number 12 Grimmauld Place, in the small hours of the morning.

Perhaps the story could begin when the young girl in question would approach her seventh birthday and come across her Auntie Bellatrix for the first time; that story, however is not only one that scarred the girl for life but quite unnecessary.

Or possibly the moment when her favourite cousin Sirius was wrongly taken to Azkaban? The day she started Hogwarts? Met Charlie and William Weasley? Graduated Hogwarts? Started Auror academy? Met Mad-Eye Moody? Became an Auror? Joined the Order of the Phoenix? Met Remus Lupin? Became re-acquainted with Sirius?

All of these are beginnings in their own right but for the story that ends in the small park, it is necessary to jump back only one year.

Nineteen ninety six. Nymphadora Tonks is twenty four years old. Sirius Black has just died. Remus Lupin has left to join the werewolves. Metamorphing abilities seem to have disappeared and a close friend is going to get married to a completely hideously beautiful woman.

This is where the story begins.

* * *

><p>This fic is partially inspired by the songs 'Words, Hands, Hearts' by Yellowcard, 'Therapy' All Time Low and 'Almost Lover' by A Fine Frenzy. Also, Tom Wilson from Moltov Jukebox tweeted me. That is, in fact, not a song but a true fact.<p>

This is originally mine, if you have seen it before under a different title it is because it has been deleted, edited and re-posted. Thank you very much.


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